


Fragile Creatures

by casperlounds



Series: The Weary Reaper [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Chilton Angst, F/M, Gen, I'll Add More as They Come to Me or Become Relevant, Sex, Violence, crime scene descriptions, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-02-28 15:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18759133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casperlounds/pseuds/casperlounds
Summary: A former assassin, disillusioned with the life she's led up until now, decides to make a more permanent identity and work to help people. Along the way, she learns how to be around other people, and even makes some friends. Some more unlikely than others.





	1. The Weary Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's me again. I am definitely going to get back to the Nevada fic I was working on years ago, but I had the idea for this and I've been watching a bunch of old episodes and I just had to do this. I'll explain more about my absence in my note on the next chapter of the Nevada fic, but I hope you all like this and forgive me for me oh so very prolonged absence >.<
> 
> Also, I set this as part of a series, because as of now, I think it needs to be in multiple parts. But if it makes more sense as one big work, I'll change it. Anyway, as to be expected, the first chapter is mostly setup and introductions.

The two women carried boxes up the inclined path leading to the manor from the driveway. One had no trouble at all, while the other struggled a bit. This was partially due to her kitten heel pumps and partially because she lacked the strength for this particular parcel.

The slightly taller, stronger woman turned to face her companion. “Mary,” she said, “I told you not to take that box. You could have just grabbed the luggage and wheeled it up here.”

“And I could have driven the van all the way up to the house, but you told me not to for reasons that escape me,” Mary replied with great difficulty.

Her friend shrugged. As they reached the front door, she searched her jacket pockets for the keys and said, “My car would have fit up here, maybe, but not the van. You would have gotten stuck here or crashed it… Ah!” She pulled out the key and opened the door, motioning for Mary to head in first.  
  
The house was already furnished. The taller woman had done most of her moving already, as well as make some tactical adjustments to the large home. These items that her friend now helped her with were the last of the lot.  
  
Stepping inside, Mary set the large box down as gently as she could beside the door. She let out a huff as she tried not to simply drop it, and had to catch her breath when she stood.  
  
The other woman chuckled and patted her on the back. “You OK?” she asked.  
  
“Yes… Yeah, I’m fine,” Mary replied, taking one more large breath before steadying herself again. She began looking through her bag, which hung from her shoulder, and pulled out a large folder. She handed it to the taller woman and said, “Here you go. Housewarming present.”  
  
The woman took it from her and began to read through it.  
  
“Shame that you’ll be living in this giant place all by yourself, don’t you think?” Mary continued while idly walking and looking around the large foyer.  
  
The woman looked up from the folder. “Well, you’ll still be visiting as much as you can. It’ll almost be like you’re living here, too… So, I’m Elizabeth Davis, now, huh?”

Mary made a face. “ _Almost_  isn’t the same as really living here. I’m just afraid you’ll get lonely. Or worse, bored. But, yes, that’s the new name. What, you don’t like it?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m just trying to work out a nickname. I think I like Ellie,” Ellie said.  
  
Mary smiled and walked back over to her friend. “Sounds a bit like ‘Holly.’ I’m sorry I couldn’t double-dip for you. I know that one was your favorite… I do like ‘Ellie,’ though. It has a nice ring to it. Kinda suits you… So, do you need help with anything else after we get the rest of your stuff in here?”  
  
Ellie closed the folder up and put it on the little table next to the door. “Nah. I’m good. And don’t worry about all that with the name. Besides, you kept everything pretty basic, which is all I wanted.” The thing she had wanted most in this change of scenery was to decide her own life for herself, instead of having every detail, down to her likes and dislikes, decided for her as usual. “Thanks, Mary. For everything.”  
  
Ellie hugged her, and the two women went back out to the van for the rest of the boxes.  
  
Mary would never tell her this, but she _was_  worried about her friend. She was certain that Ellie didn’t know how to cook, for instance. She also knew for sure that Ellie had no idea how to pay bills or stay on top of her finances. That, at the very least, Mary was still going to handle for her. The biggest concern she had was how Ellie would do with other people. She had felt so much like a mother, sending her child off to school for the first time, hoping she’d be able to make friends. For so long, Mary had been the only constant in Ellie’s life that she _was_  like a parent to her, while also being like a sister and best friend wrapped into one.  
  
Ellie had been a ward of the government since she was a teen, and never had to learn to do some of the most basic things for herself. They had been too busy training she and her “classmates” to be the most efficient killers that they could be to allow for what they would need to know if they ever left that life one day. Then again, not many ever did. They were broken psychologically to accept this sort of thing as normal, and given substantial pay and benefits on top of it. Some were even allowed to supplement their income by freelancing on occasion. An environment was carefully crafted where it was much more dangerous for these people to leave than to stay.  
  
With everything done, they said their goodbyes. Mary began to tear up a little.  
  
“Oh, man… No, don’t cry! It’s OK! I’ll be fine!” Ellie tried to comfort her and wiped a tear away.  
  
“You’d better be,” Mary responded.  
  
Ellie laughed.  
  
Through sniffles, Mary continued, “Remember, you start at the Bureau on Monday. Everything is already set up and all the info is in your folder.”  
  
With that, Mary hugged Ellie one more time before getting in the van and driving away.

 

* * *

  
  
  
Ellie arrived a full hour early and just sat in her car, building up the nerve to walk in and get settled. She found that things were easier when she didn’t have to build lasting relationships with people. She also hated that she felt that way.  _How did my life get to this point?_  she wondered. Taking a deep breath, Ellie finally got out of the car.

Giving herself a pep talk in her head, Ellie walked to the building with conviction. _It’ll be just like every other performance you’ve given. It’s just different now because you call the shots. It’s fine. You’ve got this. You’ve got this! Just use the same confidence you’ve used all this time._  
  
She found the front desk and introduced herself, after which she went through the whole rigmarole of getting her new staff ID, some last-minute paper work, and being told where to report. Finally, she headed to Crawford’s office. 

Ellie knocked on the door and straightened herself up, waiting to hear the “OK” to enter. After a minute, still having heard nothing, she knocked again, and again received no response.  
  
“Can I help you?” she heard someone say from behind her. She turned around to see a tall man, with blue eyes, and short, curly hair. He was wearing a lab coat and had a name tag clipped to the pocket. In one hand, he held a plastic container with a sandwich inside. In the other, a drink.  
  
“Hi, uh, yeah… You’re not Jack Crawford, by chance, are you?”

“Oh! You must be the new guy! No, I’m Brian. Brian Zeller,” he said. “Most people here just call me ‘Z.’ Wait, let me see if I can remember… David, right? No, wait. Davis. Elizabeth Davis?”  
  
Ellie laughed. He was kind of cute. “Yeah, that’s the one. Most people just call me Ellie.” She offered her hand for a handshake.  
  
He situated his drink under his other arm and shook her hand. “The team is in the exam room. C’mon, I’ll take you there.”  
  
He led her through the halls, and she tried to take everything in. She wanted to appreciate every detail of the first day of her new life that she possibly could. And things seemed to be going well so far. Perhaps she had even already made a friend? Suddenly, they stopped in front of two large, glass doors. Inside, Ellie saw a group of people standing around a body on an examination table.  
  
“Hey, Ellie, you mind getting the door?” Zeller asked, trying to open his drink with one hand while holding the bottle in the crook of his other arm.  
  
“Sure thing, _Z,_ ” she said with a smile, swiping her new ID over the card reader. She opened the door and let Zeller in first.  
  
“Look, I brought a friend,” he said to the group as they entered the main exam area together. He put his food and drink down on a nearby desk, and pointed at Ellie, introducing her. “Special Agent Elizabeth Davis, this is the team. Team, the new guy.”  
  
A large man with a warm, comforting voice stepped forward and shook Ellie’s hand. “I’m Special Agent Jack Crawford. I’m the head of this team. You’ll be reporting to me for all of your cases. Over there are CSIs Beverly Katz and Jimmy Price. And this is Will Graham. We’re happy to have you.”  
  
Will nodded in acknowledgement while Beverly and Jimmy waved.  
  
“Happy to be here,” Ellie said. She looked down at the body on the table.  
  
“Let’s get her up to speed. What were you just saying, Jimmy?” Crawford said.  
  
“Right. Well, there was a series of murders sometime last year. Not a thing about them would have suggested any connection, except…” Price paused, turning around to grab something out of a tray on the table behind him. He turned back around and held in his hand something that looked like a small pine cone. “This was lodged in their throats.”  
  
“A… Pine cone?” Ellie asked.  
  
“Yes, but, more specifically, Eastern Hemlock,” Price said.  
  
“Were they all poisoned before they died? Was the apparent cause of death in each case just for presentation?” she asked.  
  
“No. Eastern Hemlock isn’t poisonous. It’s in the pine family. The poisonous hemlock we think of is in the carrot family,” Katz replied.  
  
“So, what’s the cause of death in this case?”  
  
“It appeared to be a suicide,” Graham responded. “He was found hanging from a tree in the woods. Whatever footprints that might have been left in the snow leading away from the body were destroyed by the people who called it in. Whoever it was did a good job. We never would have known if not for the pine cone.”  
  
Ellie’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, the question becomes, ‘Why wait a year?’”  
  
“It’s not that simple,” Crawford replied. “We caught the guy. Had him dead to rights. And, before you ask, it’s not possible that it’s a copycat. We kept the use of the pine cone out of the press.”  
  
“So the question actually becomes, ‘Why did _his partner_ wait a year?’” Zeller chimed in before taking a bite of his sandwich.  
  
“Except he’s been institutionalized this entire time and he’s always claimed he acted alone. Nobody’s been able to get him to talk. He usually just toys with people before speaking gibberish,” Graham said.    
  
Crawford looked at the victim on the table, then over to Ellie. “You have a background in profiling, correct?”  
  
Technically, this was true. As a trained government assassin, she knew how to read people. And she certainly understood killers, even if she had a disdain for those of this particular ilk. They only pretended to be monsters. She had known what real monsters truly were.  
  
“Yes,” she answered.  
  
“He’s never seen you before. He might be more inclined to talk to you. Be ready to head to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane tomorrow morning. I’ll call ahead and let Dr. Chilton know you’re visiting. He’s the administrator.”  
  
  
  
Ellie was excited to have the opportunity to jump into things head first. When she got home, she sent a text to Mary immediately to tell her how good her first day had been.


	2. The Administrator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I haven't abandoned this lol. A lot of stuff came up that kept me busy and when I wasn't focused on that I was doing work on this. I had chapter 2 written last week, but I hated how it came out so I scrapped most of it and rewrote it.
> 
> (Edited 5/27/2019: I messed up the chapter titles for chapters 2 and 3, so I changed the title of this one to the correct one. Oops!)

Dr. Frederick Chilton sat behind his desk, reviewing notes for his upcoming appointment with the FBI Agent. He had received a call from her boss the previous day to arrange the appointment and subsequent interview with his patient, Joseph Whitlock. Chilton had given his professional opinion that it would be a waste of time, but agreed to allow the interview.

He was deep in concentration when he heard the knock on the door. Not bothering to look up, Frederick said, “Yes, come in,” and continued reading. He heard the door open and close, followed by footsteps drawing nearer to the desk.

“Hello, Dr. Chilton? I’m Special Agent Elizabeth Davis. I’m here to interview Joseph Whitlock,” the agent said.

Chilton finally looked up to see her. Immediately, he found her to be beautiful and quickly stood up from his seat to shake her hand. His entire demeanor changed from “too busy to deal with this” to “I have all the time in the world for you” the moment he locked eyes with her.

“Ah, yes! I spoke to your supervisor yesterday,” he said, practically beaming, as they shook hands. The feeling of her soft skin almost imprinted itself on him. “Though I must confess that I do not see what information your superiors hope to glean from the man. He is not particularly chatty. Especially with authority figures. Or did you simply draw the short straw, Agent Davis?” The corners of his mouth curled up slightly at his own joke, and he was delighted when she laughed.

“No, Doctor,” she responded. “I’m afraid there’s been another body that fits the M.O. to a T. We’re positive it’s not a copycat, either. Certain… Details were left out of the papers and were found in this recent victim.”

“And all this time, he has maintained he worked alone,” Chilton said in mock disappointment. He gave her a smile, which she reciprocated. Motioning toward the door, he said, “Shall we?”

“Yes, please,” Davis said.

Frederick walked over to the door and opened it for her.

 

Ellie’s first impressions of Frederick Chilton were that he was handsome, intelligent, and charming. She also noticed that he had impeccable taste in cologne, catching the intoxicating scent he was wearing as she passed him through the door leading out into the hall. Even further, she had taken a moment to glance at his left hand to see if she could spot a ring and was pleased to find there wasn’t one.

As the doctor led her down the hall, they continued their conversation.

“I feel like I should warn you, Agent Davis, that he will more than likely give you the impression that he is cooperating before shutting down and starting to babble. Do not be discouraged. He does that to everyone,” Dr. Chilton said.

“I’ve been told. One of my colleagues was familiar with the case and gave me something of a rundown. Perhaps you know him? Will Graham?” Ellie replied.

“Ah, yes. Mr. Graham. I only know the man by reputation, I am afraid. Though I would certainly love to evaluate _him_  sometime. See what makes him tick. He would be quite the subject to write about.”

Something about that statement didn’t sit well with Ellie. She, of course, did her homework on the people she was working with after having met them the day before. Therefore, she knew why Will Graham was given some special considerations. However, he was a colleague and not a test subject. Despite the bad taste that the doctor’s statement left in her mouth, she opted not to respond.

They finally made it to the room, where Joseph Whitlock was already waiting in his cage. It was a large space with many single-person cells, meant for this type of occasion.  
  
Whitlock was a young man of twenty-four years. He had short, dark hair and a bit of stubble on his cheeks. Average build and height. There was nothing truly remarkable about the man except for the crimes that he was institutionalized for. He sat in silence, staring down at his shoes, not paying much attention to anyone or anything outside of his small cell.   


  
Frederick knew that Whitlock would be far less inclined to speak to the agent with his being present. This is why he decided to stay. He wanted to spend more time around her and he told himself that Agent Davis’ superiors probably weren’t expecting her to get much from him, anyway. If Whitlock didn’t talk, perhaps she would be sent back to conduct more interviews and he could see her again? Who knew where that might lead to? Besides, things seemed to be going well between them so far.  
  
Chilton noticed that there wasn’t a chair put in place for Agent Davis and he had the orderly in the room go fetch her one. When the man returned with the chair, Frederick took it from him and set it up for Elizabeth, himself. He motioned for her to sit, and took a spot standing a little behind the chair.  
  
  
  
Ellie wasn’t sure what to make of that gesture. She nodded to him in thanks, and took her seat. Placing her messenger bag next to the chair, she took out a notepad and pen from inside and placed the items on her lap. With a sigh, she looked up at Joseph Whitlock.  
  
“Hello, Mr. Whitlock. I’m Special Agent Elizabeth Davis. Is it OK if I ask you some questions?”  
  
He looked up, directly at Ellie. Something about the way she had addressed him piqued his interest.  
  
“You’ll ask me whether I want you to or not. Don’t pretend I have a choice,” Whitlock said.  
  
“Technically, you _do_  have a choice, Mr. Whitlock. I can ask you all the questions I want. You don’t necessarily _have to_  answer them, do you? In fact, from what I hear, you don’t like to answer much,” Ellie replied.  
  
Whitlock smiled at this. “From what you hear?” he asked. “Who’s whispering things about me in your ear, Agent? Is it that bloated ego standing behind you? No… I doubt you’d let him close enough to whisper anything in your ear. From what _I_  hear, nobody does.” With that last statement, he laughed.  
  
Chilton gave him an unamused look.  
  
“It’s a figure of speech, Mr. Whitlock,” Ellie said softly, giving him a gentle smile. She knew how to crack through tough exteriors. “I’m actually here to discuss something that’s come up. Something we think pertains to your case.”  
  
“Oh?” Whitlock asked, chuckling.  
  
“Yes. A body was found. This kill fits your particular brand. Seems strange since you’re in here. Wouldn’t you agree?”  
  
Whitlock’s demeanor changed from flippant to serious. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows as he looked at Ellie.  
  
“I didn’t have any ‘brand’, Agent… Davis, was it? All my kills were different,” he said. His tone was even.  
  
“Oh, Mr. Whitlock, we both know that’s not _entirely_  true. You left behind a little calling card on each victim. Unless, of course, that was your partner’s doing. You just might not have been aware.” She paused a moment to study Whitlock’s features for any tells. “You _do_  have a partner, right?”  
  
Whitlock’s muscles all relaxed and he went into a trance-like state. He began to mumble unintelligibly.  
  
Ellie wanted to move closer to see if she could make out any words. She also knew better than to make such a rookie mistake.  
  
“Are we done here, then?” Ellie asked. Her tone was matter-of-fact, and she didn’t seem rattled in any way. She simply put her belongings back into her messenger bag, stood up, and put the bag back over her shoulder. “Thank you for your time,” she said. She then smiled at Chilton, motioning for him to lead the way out of the room.  
  
He couldn’t suppress the smile on his face as he began to lead the way. He was impressed by the fact that she wasn’t going to have Whitlock waste her time.

Many before her had tried to appease the inmate in any way that they thought they could, desperately scrambling to get whatever scraps possible. Davis was clearly not playing his game.  
  
“I am sorry that you did not get what you came for, Agent Davis,” Chilton said as they walked back toward his office together.  
  
“It’s fine, Doctor, but thank you. I figured this was a moot point. Besides, I can always come back and try again, right?”  
  
Chilton felt his heart leap. “Of course. I suspect you will be back soon, then?” he said, hiding the delight behind his words.  
  
“Most likely. I’m planning on talking to a couple of doctors he saw around the time he was first captured…” She paused and checked her notes on her phone. “Doctors Bloom and Lecter, to be exact. That should happen within the next couple of days. But I’ll be in touch.”  
  
They reached his office door.  
  
“Thank you for your help, Dr. Chilton,” Ellie said, extending her hand for another handshake.  
  
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling and shaking her hand. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”  
  
“I will. Take care,” she said, smiling back at him, before turning and leaving.  
  
  
  
Ellie got to her car and called in to Agent Crawford. As the line rang, she took in her surroundings. She was all alone in the lot, except for a red-haired woman getting into the driver’s seat of a black truck.  
  
“Crawford,” came the voice on the other line.  
  
“Yes, this is Ellie. Whitlock didn’t give me anything. He pretended to go into a trance and started mumbling as soon as I mentioned the idea of a partner. I’ve already arranged to speak to Doctors Hannibal Lecter and Alana Bloom this week. I’ll also be going through all of Whitlock’s files when I get back to see if I can find anything more with fresh eyes.”  
  
“OK. Good work,” Crawford said.

 

Back in Dr. Chilton’s office, he had placed a phone call and was waiting on hold. He nervously chewed the back of his pen as the hold music looped. He was jarred when he suddenly heard the voice on the other end.

“This is Dr. Bloom. How may I help you?” the voice said.  
  
“Hello, Dr. Bloom. It is Frederick Chilton. How are you?”  
  
“Oh! Hello, Frederick. I’m well, thanks. What can I help you with?”  
  
“You have an appointment to speak to an Agent Davis this week about one of my patients, is that correct?”  
  
“Yes, I do. Why?”

“Since he is my patient, I believe I should sit in on that meeting, as well. Do you not agree?”


	3. The Doctors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is a little long and chock full of mostly dialogue. It also goes into detail of Joseph Whitlock's crimes, so descriptions of crime scenes and violence abounds. Next chapter will be much shorter, I promise!

Mary checked through the fridge and the kitchen cabinets for what felt like forever in search for something (anything!) that she could cook for breakfast. Instead, she mostly found microwave dinners, cereal, protein bars, breakfast shakes, and more ready-in-an-instant-type food. The only thing in Ellie’s pantry that required cooking was ramen packs. At that rate, Mary was surprised that the milk in the fridge wasn’t expired.  
  
As Mary stood there, frustrated, she heard the sound of descending footsteps.  
  
Ellie entered the kitchen, yawning and scratching the back of her head.  
  
“Morning,” she said when she saw Mary standing there, already awake. “How did you sleep?”  
  
“Probably a lot better than you did. The guest room is really comfortable. It’s probably also the only bedroom that’s been slept in since you moved in.”  
  
Ellie shuffled over to the pantry to grab a box of cereal, followed by her cabinets for a bowl and the fridge for the milk.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mary,” she said as she took the items to her island. She sat down on one of the stools and poured everything into the bowl.  
  
“When I woke up this morning, I went to your room to see if you were awake. It looked like nobody’s ever lived in it. You’ve been sleeping in your Crisis Room every night, haven’t you?”  
  
In the wall, on the landing in the center of one of the two staircases ─the right one, to be exact─ that led to the second level of the manor, Ellie had installed a trick door that opened when a specific set of instructions was followed. The seams were so thin that it merely looked like the rest of the paneling that lined the wall, and a large portrait hung there for further concealment. Behind this door was a room that Ellie had gotten built when she first bought the place (with the help of Mary and some discrete contractors they used to work with). After careful planning and considerations, this location was perfect for both its camouflage and for the home’s structure to be able to support.  
  
Inside this room, which was all white except for the black carpeting, Ellie had a small command station of sorts. On the back wall, directly across from the door, was Ellie’s weapon cage. This housed most of her guns and knives that she hadn’t stashed in secret places throughout the manor in the event of an emergency.  
  
The wall to the right of the entrance was lined with TV screens showing images from surveillance cameras overlooking every inch of the property. In front of those was a large desk and an office chair.  
  
To the left of the entrance was a large wooden closet, spanning at least half the length of the wall, which was filled with designer clothing. These were mostly dresses and heels that Ellie had worn on missions in the past when it was called for. Against that wall, to the right of the closet, there was a twin sized bed set up on a simple wooden frame. Under the bed, she kept a well-stocked medical kit.  
  
Mary was right. Ellie had slept in there every night since she moved in.  
  
“Does it really matter?” Ellie asked. She looked around the island countertop for her spoon and groaned when she realized she forgot to grab one.  
  
Mary took a spoon out from the cutlery drawer and handed it to her friend. “I’m worried about you. You don’t have any decent food in this place. You’re sleeping on a small mattress in a room equipped for battle when you have a comfortable room you could be staying in… Are you still having those nightmares?”  
  
“I’m fine, Mary,” Ellie said, snapping at her more than she had intended to. She didn’t want to think about that dream.  
  
A heavy silence hung in the air for a few moments. Neither woman moved.  
  
Ellie sighed. “Look, I just… I need to adjust. I’m not used to any of this. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I have to head to work.”  
  
She left the bowl, still full, where it was on the island and went upstairs to get ready.  
  
Mary sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

 

* * *

  
  
When Ellie walked into the small conference room, she was confused to find Dr. Chilton waiting with the doctors she had made arrangements to speak to. She also found it odd that he had taken the seat next to her instead of next to either Dr. Lecter or Dr. Bloom.  
  
“Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to meet with me,” Ellie said after introductions were made.  
  
She opened her notepad and set the case file down on the table to her left, between she and Chilton.  
  
“I wanted to meet with you both,” she began, but paused, remembering Chilton was also there for some reason. “Well, I wanted to meet with you _all_  because I have some questions about Joseph Whitlock. He’s notoriously tight-lipped, and I need all the help I can get, quite frankly. Especially from you, Dr. Bloom. I know you spent the most time with him.”  
  
“We’re happy to help,” Dr. Bloom said.  
  
“Thank you, Doctor,” Ellie said. She sighed a big sigh. “So, what were your first impressions of Whitlock when you began working with him?”  
  
“At first, he had the appearance of someone who had no remorse. He willingly spoke about his crimes at length and seemed to relish in them. At the time, I couldn’t help but feel as though he was trying too hard to match his reputation. Especially since there was one murder he avoided talking about as much as he could,” Dr. Bloom said.  
  
“Which murder?” Ellie asked.  
  
“His fourth victim. Natalie Parsons.”  
  
Ellie flipped through her notepad for a moment. She found her notes on the Parsons murder and skimmed them briefly before replying.  
  
“Yes, that’s right. Natalie Parsons, age twenty… They found her heart pinned to the wall with a letter opener a few feet away from her body. A heart-shaped locket belonging to the first victim, nineteen-year-old Louise Wells, was hanging from the handle. According to my notes, Whitlock claimed to have been in love with Parsons.”  
  
“That’s why I believe he had someone who pushed him to kill her. Or who killed her, themselves, possibly without Whitlock’s knowledge. Someone with some control over him,” Bloom said.  
  
“There is another thing to consider,” Dr. Lecter said.  
  
“What is that, Dr. Lecter?” Ellie asked.  
  
“Peter Stevens, the third victim. He and our Joseph could not be more different. Yet, according to everyone who knew them both, Stevens was the closest thing to a friend that Whitlock had.”  
  
Ellie picked up the case file she had brought in with her and began cycling through the crime scene photos it contained until she reached the one for Peter Stevens.  
  
Stevens had been a student at the same University as Whitlock. They had been classmates in multiple courses, one of them being a woodshop class. When Stevens’ body was found, he was in the University’s woodshop. He had been drugged with a combination of sedatives and blood thinners, his left hand cut off with a buzzsaw, and the right hand tied to the saw table.  
  
“Hm… So why turn on his only friend?” Ellie asked, more to herself than anyone else.  
  
“It was previously thought that Stevens and Parsons might have begun dating, and Joseph killed them both in a rage. However, that is one thing that Joseph has consistently denied. That theory has since been abandoned,” Lecter said.  
  
“Yes, I could see that being a clear motive, but that wouldn’t explain the first two killings,” Ellie said. “I agree with Dr. Bloom that there was more than likely intervention from someone who had some control over him, because here is my problem… These crimes were all either too elaborate for one man to do alone, or too difficult for someone of his build to achieve. Take the Wells murder, for example…”  
  
She removed the first crime scene photo from the file. A young woman was laid out on the floor of what looked to be a shed, woodchips strewn all about. It almost seemed that she had an Evergreen tree growing from her torso. Her eyes were wide open.  
  
“Louise Wells was impaled by a sharpened Evergreen trunk,” Ellie continued. “Now, from what it says in his file, he was about the same size then as he is now. The idea of him doing all of that on his own is… I don’t think it’s plausible. It took two agents to pull the tree out of her. Then there was Stevens. The drugs they found in his system were _injected_  into him. There was a fresh needle mark and bruise on his shoulder. Stevens was an athlete. I doubt Whitlock could have overpowered him alone.”  
  
Chilton had been silent this whole time, taking in everything that was being said. Of course, he knew of the case, but he wanted to hear everyone’s theories and points before saying anything. He wanted to formulate a theory so genius that it would impress the agent without any doubt. Finally, he saw his opportunity.  
  
“Perhaps there _was_  some jealousy at play, Agent Davis,” he said in his most confident tone.  
  
“How so, Doctor?” she asked.  
  
“I posit that the reason Whitlock is being so protective of this partner is because they may have been lovers. They committed these crimes together. They were engaging in secrecy and protecting one another for many months until Whitlock’s eventual capture. As Dr. Bloom stated earlier, Natalie Parsons may have been killed without Whitlock’s knowledge. Then there is the added cruelty of using the blood thinners on Peter Stevens. I believe that the person you are looking for could have become jealous when Whitlock began spending more time with Stevens, and that jealousy turned to rage when Whitlock began to show interest in Parsons.”  
  
The room was silent for a few moments. It wasn’t the response that Chilton was expecting.  
  
“Even if that were true, how do you explain the first two victims?” Ellie asked after the nearly agonizing silence.  
  
“Louise Wells could have been the lover of Whitlock’s partner. This mystery man could have killed her to prove his intentions were sincere. His leaving Wells’ locket could have been one more slap in the face to Whitlock. A way of reminding him of what his partner had given up, which Whitlock did not reciprocate. As far as the professor they killed, that could have been done for a number of reasons. Perhaps it was mutual hatred of the educator? Perhaps it was merely to get Whitlock’s feet wet?” Chilton replied.  
  
Ellie considered his words carefully before responding.  
  
“Respectfully, Doctor, I don’t think that’s what’s going on here. Like I already said, one person couldn’t have done all the work that went into killing Wells, so Whitlock would have had to have been there. That puts a dent in the theory that Harold Margret could have been killed to bring Whitlock into the fold. And he had never taken any of Margret’s classes, so he had no apparent personal connection to him. Besides, the locket? That seems more like an apology than a slight. The blood thinners? That seems to me like more of an act of mercy, not cruelty.”  
  
“He did not want Peter Stevens to suffer,” Lecter said.  
  
“Exactly,” Ellie said. “But that only leaves me with more questions. Why kill at all? Why protect the person who forced you to kill? Especially when that person potentially abandoned you?”  
  
“You mean with the abduction of the twins?” Dr. Bloom asked.  
  
“Yes. Clearly the partner wasn’t with him at the time. The Grant sisters… He managed to get Megan, but Mikaela got away. They were twenty-three at the time. These were two grown women. Why would he do this by himself? Why didn’t the partner help him when Mikaela fled for help? _Why_  protect the person who left you alone to get caught?”  
  
“If I may, Agent Davis, perhaps you are going about this the wrong way?” Dr. Lecter said.  
  
“I’m willing to hear any insight, Doctor.”  
  
“You are trying to get Joseph Whitlock to talk. You are fighting a losing battle. He will more than likely continue to protect this person. What we do know of Whitlock is that he came from a broken home. His parents divorced when he was young and he never saw his father again. His mother was emotionally distant. He had no siblings with whom to share these burdens. Since it was his father who was absent, this might suggest that this partner has some control over him because the partner is a surrogate father. I believe you will find your answer in the list of suspects already compiled. Find him, and have Joseph confirm it with his reaction.”  
  
“I concur with Dr. Lecter,” Chilton said in an almost begrudging tone. He knew this might mean that Ellie would be spending less time at the BSHCI than originally thought, which stung him a bit. However, he was already mentally berating himself for suggesting the lover theory. He didn’t want to look like more of a fool in front of the agent.  
  
Ellie looked at Dr. Bloom. “And what say you, Doctor?”  
  
“I think what you’re looking at here is a very wounded man who was used by someone very important to him. You’ll be looking for a master manipulator. Someone who could turn a sweet man, who was doing everything right to overcome his circumstances, into a cold-blooded killer. I also agree with Dr. Lecter that he’ll probably be on your list already.”  
  
“I was afraid of that. Everyone on the list was cleared,” Ellie said.  
  
“But now you’re on the case, Agent Davis. And I doubt you’ll let him slip through your fingers,” Dr. Lecter said with a smile.  
  
Ellie couldn’t help but smile back. From the moment she met the man this morning, she felt that there was something different about him. He had something about him that pulled you in. She felt an odd sense of comfort, which stunned her because it took a lot to get her to feel comfortable around anyone.  
  
It suddenly occurred to her that this is who Chilton wanted to be. The suits were similar, but not quite the same. The administrator had an air of importance that he had manufactured, whereas Hannibal Lecter was naturally polarizing. In the short time she had spent with Frederick Chilton, she developed the opinion that he seemed to be the type to peacock.  
  
_It’s a shame,_  she thought to herself. _He seemed so charming when I first met him and then he sort of… Wasn’t._  
  
Frederick noticed the smile on Agent Davis’ face. It was the same one that many people gave Hannibal Lecter. He found himself a bit jealous. This stung even worse than his perceived foolishness earlier.  
  
  
As Ellie saw the doctors out about a half an hour later, Frederick stopped and turned to her.  
  
“If you find the need for further council, please, do not hesitate to call me,” he said with a smile. He hoped to get the same reaction she gave Hannibal.  
  
Ellie sighed in exasperation, thinking about what had been said in that meeting and the task at hand of trying to find the needle in the haystack that the people before her missed.  
  
“Thank you, Doctor. I may just have to take you up on that. But I have to get going to present to the team and get their input.”  
  
_She may **have to**  take me up on that? What does **that**  mean? She sounded more exhausted than grateful for my offer. AND she did not smile back!_ Frederick thought, trying not to broadcast the somersaults going on in his mind.  
  
“Well, yes. Have a good day, then, Agent Davis,” he said to her, still smiling. This time, he walked away without waiting for a reply.

 

* * *

  
  
Ellie returned home later that night to find a note from Mary stating that she had to get going, but to check the fridge. When she did, she found it fully stocked with groceries. Pinned to the fridge with magnets were several short and simple recipes.  
    
Ellie chuckled. She also found that she was too tired to think about food, so she went to sleep immediately. Back in the Crisis Room.


End file.
